Living on Dreams
by Emperor of Aces
Summary: Doze feels guilty over his quiet desire to be more than friends with Snowman. Itchy offers some earnest albeit awkward comfort, however, Itchy secretly has the same issue, though his desire for romance isn't directed towards the Dersite femme fatal…


**Living on Dreams  
**

I'm not very good at comforting people. The only time I'm ever really good at getting positive emotions out of others is when I'm telling jokes, and, from my experience, when someone's sad, the last thing they want to hear is a dooface like me make wisecracks about his farts. But, that night, I had to suck it up and give it a whirl. No, not the fart jokes, but the 'comforting in a serious way' bit. You see, there are some people in your life who you just can't let sit around and be sad.

I knew what he was crying about before I even saw him. That soft, child-like whimpering drifting out from somewhere in the courtyard gardens was enough to tip me off. He was crying over Snowman, again. It kills me when he cries over her like that, and it killed me then, too. You can't even imagine what it's like, having a crush on a friend who is neck-deep in his own crush on someone he can't have. Or, maybe you can. But, regardless, there I was, in front of the Mansion and suddenly feeling like all types of shit, for all types of reasons. My crush was crying because his crush saw him as just a friend (and was probably off hate-snogging with the leader of the rival gang) and I was stuck not knowing how to make him feel better.

With the night air cool on my face, I just stood there, hands shoved in my pockets for warmth, rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet, not knowing what the heck to do. My heartstrings tightened in agony as I listened to him keep on crying like no one was around to hear it. It really hurts to listen to the person you love cry like he did.

I guess all that crying finally got to me, because I ended up trapped between two mental choices: go back inside and suffer the insomnia-inducing wrath of my subconscious, or, be the creepy friend with the crush and offer my awkward condolences. Mustering up what little courage I have when it comes to social situations of the romantic kind, I chose the latter and started down the wide, cobblestone path that lead deep into the gardens.

At the heart of that big mass of flowers, and hedges, and plant shit there's a stone fountain encircled by cobbles and a trio of matching benches. It's the perfect place to be alone, if you're into being alone (I'm not), and at that fountain was where I found him. He was sitting on one of the benches, wiping tears off his chubby cheeks with a lacy handkerchief. Unlike me, he wasn't in his standard green tails, but was instead in his blue, button-down pajamas, accompanied by his favorite fur coat to protect against the autumn chill. His eyes, irritated from all the crying, were rimmed by angry halos of puffy, reddened flesh. God damn, what I would have given to have hugged him right then and there.

"Hey, Doze, how's it going?" I fucking cringe just thinking of how I said that, and how I gave him a little wave too, like I was greeting him on a merry stroll in the park or something. _Hey, Doze, how's it going?_ Give me a break. I was such an idiot.

His entire body seized up at the sound of my voice, and his wide eyes grew ever wider. Even from where I stood, I could see them glint with tears. "I-I'm fine." He adjusted the furry collar of his coat, then turned his back to me. "Just…l-leave me alone, Itchy."

"Aw, c'mon." With a complete disregard for his personal request, I waltzed my way over, swinging my limbs like an animated noodle, and took a seat beside him. I sneaked an arm around his shoulders, although I expected him to pull away. When he didn't, I tugged him closer so that he was leaning against my side. "Don't sit there crying like that and expect me to believe you."

He dabbed his face with the hanky, sniffling quietly. "It's n-nothing, Itchy. Oh, j-just go away, I don't w-want you to see me cr-cry."

"Well, I've already seen you cry tonight, so, you could say the harm has already been done." I closed my eyes, grinned, and shrugged. Come on, you've got to admit I had a point. "Can't see much more now, can I?"

Doze sniffled again, then blew his nose in the hanky. "I guess." He tucked the soiled cloth into his coat and pulled out a clean one with a dorky floral pattern and a wider border of lace. Eyes downward, he toyed with it in his hands, twisting it, wringing it, plucking at its edges; basically doing everything in his power to avoid meeting my gaze. "I'm…I'm just so sad over something so _stupid_. I should be happy that we're such good friends, her and I, but I can't." Slumping forward, he hid his face in his tiny hands and released a silent sob that shook his entire frame. "I'm a selfish, awful bastard and I feel atrocious because I have this crush on Snowy, and it won't go away. I wish I could just be content with friendship, but, stupid, greedy me, I always want more."

Outwardly, I was completely cool, but inwardly, I was flipping out. I hated hearing him beat himself up like that. Absolutely hated it. And, worse, I didn't know how the hell to help him out. How the heck do you help your best friend when you've got the same issue and you can't even fix it for _yourself_?

I ended up doing the first thing that swam into my silently panicking mind, and that was wrap him in both of my scrawny arms and embrace him.

Doze seemed frozen for a few heartbeats, probably in shock, as I'm not known for being the 'huggy' type. Then, to my alarm, I felt his arms slip beneath mine. His hands gripped the back of my coat as if he were holding on for dear life, and he pressed his damp face into my chest. I could see his shoulders trembling as he continued to cry.

More than anything in the whole god damn world, I wanted to lean down and kiss his forehead, maybe even catch a good whiff of that minty cologne he always douses himself with. But, I knew he'd find that weird as fuck, so instead I rubbed his back in gentle circles, because that I'd done to him before, and it always seemed to calm him down.

"Doze, don't say shit like that about yourself. It's not true." It was strange. For once, I didn't have that awkward tightness occupying the back of my mind that always sneaks its way in while I'm trying to get serious, and the words that came from my mouth were far less cumbersome than usual. I guess, maybe, it was like that because I _really_ meant what I was saying to him. "Having a crush on your friend doesn't make you a bad guy." I stopped stroking his back for a moment to give him a reassuring pat for good measure.

He lifted his head so that his eyes and nose were just above my shoulder. "How do you know? You don't know how it feels." A pause. "Or do you?"

It took what seemed like a dangerously long time for me to catch my own silence. "Nah. I don't. But, could you just listen to me for once? I know I don't seem like it, but, buddy, I know my shit, and I know you're not a bad guy for having a crush on your lady pal."

Doze is way smarter than me, but he's still a little slow on the uptake, and, to this day, I don't think it's ever occurred to him what my silence meant that night. Hell, I'm not even sure he realized I paused. Maybe it only seemed like a long time to me because of my whole skewed perception of time, and all that. Mile-a-minute Itchy, as they sometime call me.

Still. I hated lying to him the way I did. Though, sometimes, I think a lie is safer than the truth. That was, without a doubt in my mind, one of those times.

"Thanks, Itchy." He hugged me tighter, then pulled away to wipe his eyes with the sleeve of his coat, no longer bothering with the hanky. It didn't seem to help much, however, as the tears kept on raining down his face. "I'm just so tired of living on dreams."

"Hey, aren't we all, though?" I touched my fingers to his chin and tilted his head upward so that our eyes met. His were wet and hesitant to hold my gaze, but they managed to stay, and for that I was glad. I wanted his eyes locked onto mine so that he'd know I wasn't bullshitting him when I spoke. "Why don't we stay here together for the night? Two guys just living on dreams?"

The tears retreated to the corners of his eyes and fell over his rounded cheeks as he smiled up at me. Wordlessly agreeing to my suggestion, he squirmed his way into my lap and rested his head against my shoulder, his face buried in my neck. He pulled his arms against his chest and snuggled into me, sighing contentedly when he'd found a comfortable position.

My stomach felt like it was on a roller coaster, complete with loop-d-loops and all. Heart hammering so fast it was even unnerving to _me_, I felt sweltering hot despite the fact that it was the middle of fall and there was a light crust of frost on the grass. I kept it cool, though. I gave no indication that I was fucking melting inside and hurting all at once, and, eventually, we both fell asleep, curled up together on that bench, listening to the musical trickle of the fountain while the city sparkled in the background like the stars we couldn't see.

I'm not very good at comforting people.

But I think I did it right that night.


End file.
